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Drake

As Pef came to land at the city gates, a squad of devil warriors blocked their path.

"What now?" he asked himself rhetorically.

"Name, rank and purpose?" a guard captain with a Tier 2 cultivation demanded arrogantly.

Someone should have taught these morons that arrogance was not a survival trait.

"Baron Strella" she said in a cold voice and flared her qi.

"You have guts coming here, after murdering the Count's sons! Arrest them!" the captain proclaimed and gestured his guards to advance.

Pef sighed and began gathering qi to obliterate the morons.

"Halt! Step aside!" a loud voice demanded from above the city gates.

The guards stepped back, and fell to one knee in respect.

A fat devil floated down, almost like a balloon. "Baron Strella? And husband, I presume?" the guy asked in a honied voice.

"Indeed. And you are?" Strella asked dismissively.

"Magrave Kontre. And I am in dire need of a Barony. Perhaps even a concubine, if you manage to survive the challenge." the devil said after liking his lips in excitement.

Suddenly, Pef had a wonderful idea. "A Magrave? I could use a noble rank. If this fat pig would dare accept my challenge." he mused to himself, without looking up.

"Oh? Such disrespect to a noble, from a mere slave trader. But, I did hear you were involved directly, even killed a Baron, right?" the Magrave asked in a more level voice.

"Do you accept the challenge, Magrave Kontre?" another voice spoke from nowhere.

"Baron Firestorm! Weren't you dead drunk a minute ago?" the Magrave asked in astonishment.

"What if I was? Answer the challenge or run in shame!" the loud voice demanded, then hiccuped for some unknown reason.

The fat devil grit his teeth, then smiled pleasantly. "Of course I accept. I never lost a challenge in my life!"

His size began increasing greatly, till the guy was larger than an airship.

Pef sighed inward. Then he punched the center mass, expecting the fat devil to explode like a balloon. Instead, his fist sunk into a spongy layer of blubber.

"Haha. This idiot trader tried to punch me!" the Magrave laughed, as the spectators and the guards joined him into joy.

A slimy discharge covered Pef from head to toe, restricting his movements.

'What the hell is this?' he asked inward.

'Analyzing. Complete. This is snot. Have fun!' the glove replied in a second.

Pef felt like puking his guts out.

In a few seconds the snot began to harden into an elastic foam, blocking Pef's vision.

Pef cursed the crazy perverted devil and flared his sword ki, and then Blinked above the floating balloon as soon as an entry whole emerged.

Then he kicked downwards with greater force, while covering his leg in ice.

The Magrave crashed into the ground, and spit a bit of blood. "You hurt me? The great invincible Kontre!"

Pef called onto his water spirit and formed a larger ice platform, which he began pressing over the inflated devil.

It took a minute and more screaming, then the balloon popped into blood and blubber, splashing everyone in the vicinity.

Pef formed a water shower and began cleaning the snot away, while grumbling in disgust.

"Hahaha! This was the best challenge I've seen this millennium. Congratulations, Magrave Pef. Taxes towards my Barony are exempt for a decade, just for this great show. Hic!" Baron Firestorm proclaimed from the top of the wall, then gulped from a large wine gourd.

"Great fight, husband." Strella said while keeping him at hand length.

"Better I was covered in snot than you." Pef said in a low voice.

"And a noble rank might be useful too." Strella mused while stepping back a little.

'I'm not contagious!' Pef cried inward.

The glove giggled like a child.

"What did he say? That slime was snot? Ewwww!" the locals began voicing out loud.

"That guard has some on his boots."

"Nah, those are only exploded eyes."

"Ah, I was worried for a second."

As Pef entered the city, an invisible force parted the masses, rumors spreading at light speed to warn people of the impending health menace.

Strella walked a meter behind him, the very imagine of a respectful wife.

Behind him the guards argued what to do.

"So, we're not arresting him anymore?"

"You want to touch snot?"

"Ah, he's too far already. Focus guarding the gate!" the captain ordered after thinking for a second.

"You're the best boss!" another guard commented and punched a nearby onlooker in the stomach.

The crowd dispersed at speed.

The magic avoidance aura lasted for a few kilometers, before Pef entered an inn and rented a room with a bath.

An hour later, someone looking completely different left the inn and met Strella at a nearby restaurant.

"Let's never talk about that." Pef asked in a pleading voice.

"As you say." Strella replied with a smirk.

Soon after eating, they walked towards the auction house, where a Tier 3 devil was serving as doorman.

"Only nobles are allowed!" the guard said in a warning tone.

"Magrave Pef and Baron Strella." Pef answered levelly.

The doorman's eyes widened, and he drew back a few meters to avoid contagion.

"Please do not touch anything, Magrave. People have to live here." the guard pleaded as Pef and his wife entered the auction house.

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Pef sighed and folded his hands into his sleeves.

The first floor did have a few shops, but they had very few precious cultivation aids, mostly weapons and charms.

After exploring the first floor, Pef eyed the stairs towards the next floor.

A violet chain blocked the stairs, for some reason.

As Pef approached, a hidden door opened to the side.

"Esteemed guests, access to higher floors required a violet jade slip. We can also sell you one for a million white gold coins, or something equivalent." a warm voice explained.

Pef turned to observe the auction host. A cute deviltress with J-cup breasts, and wearing a tight kimono.

Pef nodded and smiled gently. "Price is no matter, my dear. Get me the highest level access, plus front row seats at the nearest auctioning."

The deviltress smiled widely. "Of course Magrave. Please follow me."

Soon enough, he and Strella were seated in a private room, while a high ranking auctioneer arrived to manage these precious clients.

"Slave business must be highly profitable, Magrave Pef." the new arrival commented as he poured some fragrant tea.

"Indeed. A client of mine bought billions of soldiers. I made a killing." Pef mouthed as agreement.

"Count Argil is quite famous these days, indeed. As are your beautiful Baron wives, to a lesser extent." the devil mused out loud.

Strella smiled pleasantly.

"I hear you sell pills and herbs?" Pef asked directly.

"Of course. War is a very profitable business." the auctioneer muttered absently.

"I want them all." Pef said calmly.

The devil blinked in confusion. "We have millions of..."

"Good. All of those, and everything else you manage to find in the next year. Sacred rank soldiers will sell even better." Pef replied curtly.

"Oh! That is quite...revolutionary. But...it does seem a good business model, if you can find these slaves for cheap, I suspect." the auctioneer probed gently.

"All it takes is long travel to distant galaxies, conquering entire interstellar empires and then force them to deliver you slave soldiers. Huge investment, huge profit." Pef nodded sagely.

The devil took out an inventory jade slip and began consulting his reserves.

"Some herbs are so rare they might sell ten times higher on auction." he mused probingly.

"It's okay. I trust you won't charge me too much. Not if you want to still be here next year." Pef replied with a genial smile.

The auctioneer blinked as the words impacted inside his mind. "Oh. Of course. Baron Strella. War. No wonder you dared to appear here."

"Exactly. Now. My herbs, pills and anything that may help. A few cultivation methods if they deal with light or dark." Pef demanded sternly.

"Everything you need will be brought here in a few hours, Lord Pef. Till then, please feel free to explore the higher floors." the auctioneer said hastily, then fled.

Pef sighed and began climbing the floors. Every shop, he made sure to buy some trinket or another.

Then he reached a strange shop, Universe Emporium.

Inside a young boy with a silver aura was sitting on a tall chair waiting for customers.

'Tier 3 weapons. And war puppets!' the glove exclaimed in wonder.

'A maker?' Pef wondered as he examined the boy with new eyes.

"I am not for sale, Magrave Pef." the boy spoke softly.

Strella glanced at her husband curious.

"As you wish, returner. Pack everything and give me a price." Pef said instead.

The boy glanced around the shop and sighed. "Wherever I go, it's the same. Some moron ruins my livelihood by buying everything."

"You don't want to sell these weapons?" Strella asked in wonder.

"One per month, sure. I sell everything, they kick me out. And I have to move to a new planet." the boy complained and sobbed.

"I could use a warsmith for my army. And we'll never kick you out." Pef said gently and set his Legion knife on the trade table.

The boy's eyes widen in wonder as he caressed the knife lovingly. "It is exactly like in my dream. How?"

"It is exactly like your dream. Only they are not dreams, but memories. You have seen this before. In another life." Pef explained seriously.

Strella placed her adamantite sword beside the Legion knife.

The difference was immediately apparent. However hard did Lin try to craft a Legion class weapon, the sword was a thousand times feebler.

"Oh, you have another smith?" the boy asked in a pleading tone.

"And billions of soldiers. We can never have enough weapons." Pef replied with a chuckle.

"Even so. This smith is so skilled. Maybe better than me." he whispered to himself.

Strella held a hand out and her sword flew into her palm. "So, wanna join us?" she asked amused.

The boy nodded unconsciously. "I might learn more..."

"My name is Strella." the deviltress introduced herself as the boy began collecting his wares into storage rings.

"I know, Baron Strella. There's a huge bounty on your head, and it has a drawing. Though, you look much prettier in person." the boy said in a childish tone.

"He's so cute, hubby. Can we really keep him?" Strella asked greedily.

"He's also older than you, Strella. Much older." Pef muttered and shook his head.

The boy walked towards Pef and offered his hand. "Drake"

Pef shook his hand and waited for his glove to confirm his suspicion.

' Dragonkin. About 10 million years old. They mature slowly so this one is merely a dragon pup. Now all we need is a fairy.'

Pef sighed inward and walked towards the next set of stairs.